Imitation
by esama
Summary: Hikaru's paper fan is a mere imitation of the real thing. AUish


**Imitation**

Lazily Hikaru flipped the Ogi-fan open and then folded it again, open and folded. He had already long ago realised that the sound was different - on the very moment he had bought the cheap thing from that little shop around the time of the Hokuto Cup he had known that it wasn't the same, not even nearly. Sure the fan was Ogi-fan just like _that_ one, sure it was made of white paper and dark wood just like _that_ one… but _that_ one had been sign of nobility, this was a souvenir. Of course they couldn't be the same.

Hikaru could still remember _that_ one Ogi-fan, even years after. He had never touched it except in his dreams, of course not… but he had seen it so many times, he couldn't even begin to count how many times he had heard it shift open. The paper in _that_ one had been richer, not thicker or more expensive, but better, purer, hand made… stronger somehow. And the ribs had been all hand crafted by some master craftsman ages ago. Even the sounds it made had been rich and priceless; it had shifted open and folded with comfortable snap and softest sigh…

Even though Hikaru had tried to be as gentle as possible to his cheap souvenir of an Ogi-fan, it hadn't aged well. The glue holding the paper and ribs together had started to give away. The paper itself was bent oddly here and there and it made it slightly difficult to fold the fan. The folds of the paper had begun to get weaker and weaker, and Hikaru knew that it was only matter of time before the cheap paper would break.

He knew that one day the Ogi-fan would give into the time and damage but wasn't sure if he would be able to get another Ogi-fan when it would happen. It would be odd being without one - no, he wasn't even sure if he could go on without one anymore as he had had one for years now, loyal partner in each and every game he had played since the Hokuto Cup. But getting one to replace this one…? It seemed like something sacrilegious. Even though this fan wasn't _that_ fan… to replace one with another seemed horrifying.

He snorted to himself while flipping the fan open again, holding it high upon his face to see how light shined through the paper. The cheap thing couldn't even begin to compare with _that_ fan. It was just a make-belief copy of _that_ fan, just illusion of a something he couldn't really have, stand in taking the place of the real thing… just like he was. On too many days and too many games he found himself existing as nothing but an imitation of a real thing - Honinbo Shusaku's imitation people said, but he knew that he was cheap copy of one unknown genius by the name of Fujiwara no Sai.

But he wasn't bitter about that. He was bitter about many things, but not about being Sai's imitation. Because by being Sai's imitation he was also Sai's imprint, Sai's legacy and maybe even an heir in a way - and that was truly something he never wished to throw away. He enjoyed playing with Sai in his Go and as time had gone by he had even begun to imitate Sai's presence. He allowed himself to indulge in naïve fascination of things he had once considered ordinary. He grown his hair long, pierced his ears and no matter what anyone said he would never again step out of his home without slightest layer of lipstick… and he was proud of it. On odd days he even considered getting himself white Kariginu, exactly like the one Sai had worn, he was positive that he would one day get it too.

It was soothing, to be like Sai. It was the only way to make sure that he would never forget. Sure, he could swear and promise that he would never _ever_ forget Furiwara no Sai… but the words were empty. He couldn't remember the colour of Sai's eyes anymore and Sai's face was fading from his memory. And he was truly terrified that he would lose the rest as well. Even though Sai would forever live on in his Go and endless Kifu's recorded of Hikaru's games, Sai's features would never be in those black and white stones, his smile or his tears never were in that board as they were in Hikaru's memory.

So when ever Hikaru remembered something, some mannerism, some feature, anything that Sai had been or done… he tried to integrate it into his being. It was truly the only way to _record_ Sai, as no camera had been able to capture the ghost. On his most depressing moments, Hikaru cursed his inability to draw - if he had been able he would've recorded Sai's features in paper long ago, what little he remembered anyway.

He enjoyed being Sai's copy, in a way it kept him sane… but that wasn't how it was known by others. To the world around him he was the copy of Honinbo Shusaku - some had even gone as far as saying that he was a reincarnation of Kuwabara Torajiro. In all honesty, though he never showed it, Hikaru hated it more than he had hated anything else before in his life - he hated it more than he hated losing. He hid it, but every time anyone said Shusaku, a deep rooted hate and jealousy bursted in his stomach, making him sick.

He was jealous to the man who had once been considered strongest and who had died well over hundred years ago. At first he had thought that he hated Shusaku because unlike him Shusaku had had the strength to be selfless where Hikaru himself had been disgustingly selfish - because Shusaku had been better person than he would ever be, because Sai had praised him continuously. But the more he analyzed his near demonic jealousy, he understood something else.

Sai had been with Hikaru two and half years before fading, but Shusaku… Sai had been with the 'invincible' Shusaku over _twenty_ years, from the man's childhood all the way to his death.

When Hikaru had realised it first, years ago, he had thrown a great fit, throwing his Go-board and stones to the wall. The baskets had broken and the stones had scattered everywhere as he had continued to tear his bookshelves down - he had nearly broken his new computer in his rage. The unfairness of it had made him blind and he had just wanted to show how that injustice hurt him.

_Why_? Why had Shusaku been given so much more time when he had only been allowed two and half years? Had Shusaku really been that much better person than he was? Had it been his selfishness, the fact that he hadn't allowed Sai play as much as Shusaku had, been so horrible? Had the spirit been taken from him as some kind of divine punishment? The realisation had made him weep in many nights and he had felt weak for weeks before he had managed to find slightest comfort by getting his ears pierced and adorned with ruby-studs.

Opening the fan again, the Pro player frowned slightly. In a way he knew that he would never truly get over Sai's departure. It had been… too sudden. Sai had been so close from the day one, linked to his mind and presence, always hearing range, always listening to his thoughts and answering to them with his own. Sure Hikaru hadn't exactly enjoyed it in the beginning - and going to bathroom had been pretty awkward - but once he had gotten adjusted to it… he had begun to enjoy it.

Sai and what they had together was something Hikaru would never be able to have with anyone. As years would pass he would make friends, he would get teachers and even rivals… but Sai would always be one of a kind to him. Sai would always have a part of Hikaru's heart which would never be given to anyone else - in away, when the ghost had vanished, he had ripped that part off and taken it with him to where ever he had went.

Closing the fan again Hikaru sighed. One day he would die and go to where Sai was - he was positive that Sai would be the one to fetch his spirit from his body upon his death. Because of this, he looked forward to his death… but before that he had many games to play and many years to live. He had much to learn and Hand of God to attain - or if he wouldn't be able to attain it then at least he would push Go further so that someone else would be able to do it.

After staring at the suffered Ogi-fan for a moment, he sat up. Placing the fan down to near by bookshelf, he decided that it was a time to get a new fan. It would be just another imitation copy of the original, but even an imitation was better than being completely without.

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Rather short little drivel. I'm trying to get a feel to Hikaru no Go fanfiction as I haven't written much of it before, so it's probably pretty bad - and there might be some mistakes here and there, I wouldn't bs surprised if there was. Comments and suggestions are very welcome.


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